Diftor Heh Smusma
by AY Messerschmidt
Summary: Live Long and Prosper. Rated M for the probable content of later chapters. Spock/OC, minor Kirk/Bones subplot
1. Chapter 1

_Georgia, 2256_

"Leilani T'lema Florins! Get in here! NOW!"

"Yes, mother?"

The other woman turned around, her hand over her heart, to see her dark-haired, pale-skinned daughter standing with her hands behind her back.

"Don't DO that."

"Mother, it is illogical to assume that I would exert extra energy –"

"Yes, you've told me. Now you can tell me why there is a Commander from Starfleet in our living room."

The girl's eyes widened, if only for a moment. She quickly regained her composure. "It was logical to submit an application, mother," she said, walking towards the living room.

"You're sixteen, Leilani! It was not logical to submit an application," she responded, following.

"No, mother. It would be illogical for me to continue attending my present school, as my scores on the aptitude tests are greater than the sum of all of my instructors'," she replied, entering the living room. Her mother was still in her bathrobe, having just woken up. Leilani, however, was dressed in a fitted, blue, button-down, short-sleeved top and a pair of black trousers and boots, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun. "Hello, Commander," she said. She knew immediately who he was, and was incredibly curious why Starfleet had sent Commander Spock in response to her application. "Couldn't your time be better served doing something other than responding to applications?"

"Affirmative, Miss Florins. However, your application was brought to my attention. Logically, there was doubt among many that your application was entirely truthful.

Her mother snorted.

"Lying would be irrational," she replied. "However, as that sentiment is not shared by the majority of my peers, I did expect such doubts. I can retake the aptitude tests under your supervision, if that would suffice to belay suspicions."

"Affirmative," he replied. "With your parents' permission, it is the Academy's wish that you accompany me there in order to take the tests in their controlled environment. Should the results prove comparable to those reported with your application, you will be granted immediate entry into the program of your choice, complete with full scholarship," Spock said, looking at the elder Florins. Leilani turned to her mother as well.

"Your father'll be home for lunch in an hour or so. It's up to him. Why don't you two play chess or something while you wait?" The woman said, though she obviously didn't care. "I have to start lunch."

"Already started, mother," Leilani told her.

"Good, then I'm taking a nap. It's your father's decision, don't bother waking me," the woman said and went to her room, closing the door.

"You partake in chess?" Spock asked her.

"Affirmative," she responded, "however, if you need to return to the Academy…"

"Negative," he said. "An hour of time is fairly inconsequential."

Leilani didn't think that made much sense, but decided it was his time to do with what he willed. She got the multi-tiered chess set down from its high shelf and set it on the table. The set was one of her most prized possessions, as her family could rarely afford such indulgences. It had been passed down through her father's family and had been created on Vulcan.

One hour later, the chess match was at a standstill a mere five moves in. Commander Spock was obviously more skilled than she, but Leilani was determined to win, and so she contemplated her moves even longer than usual. Leilani felt the need to prove herself to the Commander, a desire she wasn't accustomed to. A noise outside drew her attention from the game – the sound of her father arriving home. A smile broke through her façade of Vulcan-like control.

"Excuse me for a moment," she asked Spock, then stood and went to the door. "Hi, Daddy," she said, her southern accent much more noticeable than before. Her love of logic and communications had always been overshadowed by her love for her father. He kissed her cheek gently and followed his daughter towards the kitchen for lunch.

He passed the living room, though, and saw Spock out of the corner of his eye. "…T'lema, darlin'…why is there a Vulcan Starfleet Commander in our living room?" He asked.

"Half Vulcan, Daddy," she said, fixing him a plate. "I'll explain while you eat, 'kay?" Her father sat down and began eating, waiting for his daughter to begin explaining.

"Okay, so…I submitted my application to Starfleet, and they were understandably skeptical about the truthfulness of the scores and such. They sent Commander Spock to evaluate and get permission for me to enlist…mother said the matter is up to you," she said nervously. "And, I know I'm only sixteen and all, but…"

"It was logical," her father said, sighing. "You're not the average sixteen year old girl. I'm just not sure if I'm ready for you to leave me yet."

"I can assure you, Dr. Florins, that she will be wholly safe at the Academy," Spock said from the kitchen doorway.

"I'm sure she will, Commander," he said. "It's the possibility of having to leave the Academy that concerns me."

Leilani sighed and took a seat next to her father. "Daddy, Uncle Leo's there. He'd watch after me, you know that. And the likelihood that I'd be leaving the Academy for active duty within the next few years is roughly two point zero three five percent. And…I want this. You know I do. You know how much it means to me…please, Daddy…"

"Why not wait a few years, T'lema? You could intern at the hospital with me, and when you're eighteen go to the Academy…"

"Except you'll come up with another reason then. Daddy, you can't keep me here forever. You can't always be right there with me. You have to trust that I can do this…I'm ready. Mother doesn't want me here, and neither does anyone else but you. I don't want to be here. My only reason for staying is you, and…there's no future for me here. You know that as well as I do. Healthcare isn't what I want to do with my life…"

"But you're so good at it, T'lema, and-"

"And I'm better with languages. Communications. And I enjoy communications…" The two were silent for a moment. "It's more logical for me to leave, but this is more than that. I know. Daddy, I'll always be your little girl. I don't want that to change any more than you do…"

The man's eyes flickered between his daughter and the Commander. "If anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible."

"Daddy, that's ridiculous…"

"Agreed. Younger students always have a mentor assigned to them. Usually that mentor is an older student, but due to your daughter's exceptional application, it has already been decided that I will be her mentor," Spock replied.

Her father nodded and turned back to Leilani. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Since I was five…"

The man nodded, and Leilani's already cracked shell shattered. She smiled brightly and threw her hands around her father's neck. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She said.

Her father hugged her back and chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Go pack your things while I discuss the technicalities with Commander…?"

"Spock, sir," he said.

"Spock."

Leilani nodded and went up the stairs. She looked around her room. The walls were bare, the shelves lined with books and studies in various languages, mostly Vulcan. She pulled out a bag and began to pack neatly folded clothes. She then added basic hygiene items, and a few keepsakes and books, closing the bag. She was about to leave the room when she took another look towards something she'd long-since decided would stay behind when she left. She walked over to her desk and set the bag down, bending at the knees to open the bottom drawer. Inside was a box with intricate carving on the lid. She ran her fingers over it and looked back at her door. She stood and closed the door quietly before going back. She sat down on the floor and pulled the box out, setting it in her lap and taking the chain from around her neck. She used the attached key to open it and take out all of the letters, each of them still in their original envelopes and all brown with age. At the bottom was the letter opener, an antique carved from ivory with the image of Morpheus in the handle, sitting atop a bound journal. She picked the opener up gently and ran her fingers over it, setting it aside to flip through the pages of the journal gently. The pages were enscribed with her dreams, and the letters that had also been in the box were all written by her great-great-grandmother before she returned to Vulcan. T'lema replaced everything in the box gently, locked it, and put the chain around her neck again, letting the key fall down so that it was hidden beneath her shirt. She packed the box gently in her bag before heading back downstairs into the living room. She saw her father packing up the chess set while Commander Spock communicated the news back to the Academy. Her father looked up when she entered. He finished packing the chess set and handed it to her.

"What? Daddy…no, I…I couldn't…"

"That's illogical, T'lema," he teased with a soft smile. "It was always going to be yours when you left home. It's just leaving a little earlier than expected is all."

Leilani's eyes glistened with tears for a moment before she regained control of herself. She hugged her father again and kissed his cheek. "I'll miss you, Daddy," she whispered.

"I'll miss you too, darlin'," he replied. "I called your Uncle and let him know you were coming. Now, then. No sense in wasting time." She nodded and gently packed the chess set between some of her clothes before reclosing her bag and hoisting it onto her shoulder.

"Are you prepared for departure, Miss Florins?" Commander Spock asked.

"Affirmative, Commander," she said. Spock led her out the door to his waiting silver Mercedes-Benz McLaren SLR Roadster. She put her bag in the trunk, keeping out a few books. She got in, buckled up and began to study as they sped away from her tiny hometown.

Spock looked over. "Your application stated that you can speak and read Vulcan I was not aware you do so in your free time." Leilani looked up – she wasn't sure how long she'd been reading. Long enough to move on to a novel written on Vulcan, circa 2011.

"Not as much as I would prefer, Commander," she replied, marking her page to give him her full attention.

"Why is that, Miss Florins?"

"Lack of opportunity, Commander."

Spock nodded, and the two fell silent once more. She stared down at her book, unsure whether it would be acceptable to open it and continue reading.

"I noticed that your mother calls you Leilani, while your father calls you T'lema," Spock spoke after a moment. It sent a chill down her spine to hear him speak her middle name. "Are you cold?" He asked, reaching for the car's thermostat.

"No," she replied, swallowing. "The current temperature is agreeable."

Spock withdrew his hand, replacing it on the wheel. "I do not understand the difference in the two relationships," he clarified when she didn't say anything else.

"Do you have the same relationship with your mother as you do with your father, Commander?" She asked.

"Negative. My mother is human, and as such is much more…emotionally…nurturing, while my father has always promoted intellect and logic."

"My father is more nurturing in general than my mother," she replied, tensing, unable to avoid emotion in the situation-after all, emotion was the root of the difference. "Most humans would say my mother and I don't have a relationship at all, but that would be using the colloquial definition of the term. I prefer T'lema, and my father respects that. My mother despises the name."

"If she despises it, why would she give it to you?"

"My father insisted," she said. "It was my paternal great-great-grandmother's name. I'm the first female offspring since."

"Where did your great-great-grandmother get the name?"

"She is Vulcan," she replied. "As is my maternal great-great-great-grandfather."

"So you are point zero-nine-three-seven-five percent Vulcan."

"Approximately," she said. "I am unsure about the lineage of those who married into the family. Theoretically, my paternal grandmother could have had Vulcan blood, but as I have not traced her lineage, I do not know."

Spock nodded, and the air grew thick with another lengthy silence before he broke it again, trying to force conversation to learn about her and because…wasn't that the accepted Human custom? "You are excited to join Starfleet," he commented, remembering her reaction.

"I am," she said, uncomfortable with the unusual amount of conversation, as well as the rather emotional nature of it.

"Why?"

"Starfleet will allow me to further advance my knowledge and understanding of the universe, as well as allow me to use that knowledge and understanding daily. I believe Starfleet will be a challenge, something I've searched for all my life."

Spock fell silent and remained that way for nearly an hour before T'lema felt comfortable enough to open her book once more. The two remained in a silence much less awkward than conversation for many hours before T'lema awoke to Spock's voice. She started awake and saw darkness engulfing the car, save the light that glowed forth from the windows of the diner they had parked in front of.

"Are you hungry, Miss Florins?" He asked.

"Yes, Commander, thank you," she replied a bit absently, sitting up. She flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror for a fraction of a moment before closing it. Spock got out of the car and she followed suit, taking her luxuriously long black hair down momentarily to redo the bun which had been ruined in her sleep. She then followed the Commander inside to a table. A woman came over and gave them menus, smiling at Spock but receiving no visible reaction. She sighed and walked away to give them a few moments to decide. T'lema glanced over the menu for a moment, deciding and closing it.

"And you?" The woman asked, turning to her. T'lema jumped, having gotten too lost in contemplation to notice the woman return or, apparently, take the Commander's order. They both looked at her.

"Water," she replied simply. "And a salad."

"Dressing?" The woman asked, and T'lema shook her head. "Alright," she said, and walked away from the table, shaking her head a bit, only to return moments later with their drinks. She 'accidentally' brushed her hand against Spock's, gave him another smile, and walked away. T'lema took a sip of her water, thinking.

"Are you unwell?" Spock asked her after a moment.

T'lema looked at him. "No, sir. Simply…contemplative."

"What are you contemplating?"

"The dream I had in-" T'lema was cut off by the waitress bringing their food. The woman set T'lema's food in front of her haphazardly, then sat Spock's down and indiscreetly traced her hand across the Vulcan's in a way that she was obviously trying to make seem accidental, but was much too slow. Spock stiffened somewhat and T'lema found herself unable to completely hide her shock at the woman's behavior. She blushed and looked away. Did this woman not understand what she was doing? It made T'lema angry and bashful and generally upset all at once, and she found that her appetite was gone. It seemed as though it had been ages, but when T'lema ventured another glance, the waitress' hand was still on Spock's. She had to do something. Looking up at the woman, she gave a venomously sweet smile. "I'm sorry, can I get some lemons?" She asked, her voice as deadly as it was sweet.

The woman stared at her for a moment. "Of course," she half-spat, removing her hand. "Back in a jiff."

T'lema said nothing, opting to take another sip of her water and play in the salad a bit.

Spock stared at the table for a moment, calming himself before he spoke. "Thank you," he said.

"Veling," she responded simply, as the woman had returned with the lemons. She gave the woman a sweet smile and thanked her.

"Do you need anything?" She asked Spock, trailing a finger along his hand gently and turning her back towards T'lema altogether.

"No," he said. The waitress turned and gave T'lema a rather rude look before walking away. It wasn't long before the Commander and T'lema were back in the car on their way to Starfleet Academy.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, loves. The next one will be longer, I promise. (: Also, something I should have pointed out earlier - I will be sticking as close to the movie as possible, but, obviously, it won't be exactly the same. Hope you all enjoy, please rate and review!**

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><p><em>San Francisco, 2256<em>

T'lema awoke as the sun was rising. She looked out the window and saw that they were almost to Starfleet Academy – in fact, she could see it up ahead. T'lema smiled softly, if only for a moment.

"Ha'tha ti'lu," Spock said simply.

"Ha'tha ti'lu," she replied, taking her hair down once more and re-pinning it into a bun. She sat up straighter and smoothed her clothing, preparing herself mentally for what was sure to be an eventful day, to say the least.

Spock parked and the two got out. T'lema hoisted her bag back onto her shoulder and followed Spock into the main building. It was a weekend, and the campus was crawling with students who were now whispering about the child who had arrived with Commander Spock.

As soon as they entered the main building, T'lema saw her Uncle Leo and smiled softly.

"Would that be the Uncle your father mentioned?" Spock asked.

"Affirmative, Commander," she replied simply.

"Very well," he said. "I must go and inform Admiral Kinsington of your arrival. You may stay here with him while I do so." With that, Spock left and T'lema walked over to her Uncle.

"Uncle Leo!" She said with a smile, putting her bag down and hugging his neck.

"Hey, darlin'. Your Daddy's worried sick already. What were you thinkin', applyin' to Starfleet at sixteen?"

"You know very well what I was thinking," she replied, and her uncle sighed, nodding.

"Yeah, I suppose I do…and I can't deny I'm happy to see you again. Your mama still hates me, I presume?"

T'lema nodded. "Daddy was only able to call you because she was asleep," she informed him. "She's so irritatin'…you know she was still in her bathrobe when Commander Spock arrived yesterday? Didn't bother to change, either, and went to bed while he was there. She told me it was Daddy's decision and not to bother waking her. She may've gotten everything in the divorce, but you're lucky to be rid of Aunt-"

"Hey, Bones!" Someone called. The interruption irritated T'lema and she looked around for its source. She saw a tall blonde human walking towards them, flashing a smile in her direction. "Hi there, I'm Jim," he said, holding out his hand. T'lema looked down at it, then back up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"She ain't gonna shake it, Jim," Uncle Leo said, and Jim retracted his hand, confused.

"T'lema," she said simply.

"Well, T'lema, are you germophobic or something?" He asked. Just then, Commander Spock approached and T'lema hoisted her bag back onto her shoulder.

"No," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She kissed her Uncle on the cheek.

"I'll see you later, darlin'," he said, and she nodded, walking back over to the Commander. Bones watched her walk away with the Vulcan before turning to Jim. "Before you ask, she's my niece. And she's sixteen."

"Sixteen or not, she should still know how to shake hands…"

"She's part Vulcan, Jim. She doesn't view a handshake as something you do with an acquaintance."

"Bullshit," He said after a moment, with a look of utter disbelief. "And what would she consider to be something you do with an acquaintance?"

Bones just shook his head. "Honestly, I have no idea. T'lema isn't exactly a social butterfly." He turned to his friend. "And I'd like to reiterate that she's sixteen. So just stay away from her, alright?"

"What?" He asked innocently. "I was just being friendly…I'm not a pedophile, Bones…"

"Yeah, well, the rules don't change when she turns eighteen. You stay away from her, got it?"

This time, Jim only nodded in response.

"Good," Bones said. "Now what did you want?"

"Oh…I was wondering what you were doing in here, but I guess that answered that. So…are you gonna wait for her, or…?"

"Nah, let's go get lunch. She's probably gonna be testing for a few hours anyway."

T'lema opted to retake the aptitude tests that day rather than waiting. She was taken to a seemingly barren, white room with a simple desk and chair. Near the high ceiling was a row of two-way mirrors that went all the way around the room. T'lema knew there would be officials watching her every move from behind them. She sat down at the desk and saw that a thick booklet was laid face-down atop it. A large timer appeared on one wall. Before long, a robotic female voice filled the room.

"Begin."

T'lema flipped the test over and opened the front cover. She read each question and selection quickly and carefully, marked her response on the separate answer sheet, and finished the exam in less than half of her allotted time – almost a record. She closed the book and looked expectantly up at the mirrors. A door opened nearby and she turned her attention to it.

"Are you finished?" The attendant asked.

"Affirmative," she replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Sign it." T'lema signed the front cover and handed the book to the attendant, who marked the time at which she had stopped taking the test, then left. T'lema waited for her results. To pass the time as they checked and rechecked her answer sheet, she began to sing in different languages under her breath – it helped to keep the languages easy on her tongue. About half an hour later, a male voice came over the speaker.

"Congratulations, Miss Florins," he said, sounding as though he was still in absolute shock. "You are hereby offered full scholarship into the program or programs of your choice."

The door to her side opened again and she stood, seeing Commander Spock. She walked over and out of the wretched room.

"Have you decided on a course of study, Cadet?" He asked.

"Affirmative, Commander. Xenolinguistics and Psychiatry," she informed him. T'lema removed her things from the locker she'd been told to place them in before starting her testing.

"You'll be rooming with Cadet Uhura," he said. "She's focusing on Xenolinguistics as well and has demonstrated above-average proficiency and dedication, so the pairing should not inconvenience either of you."

"I'm sure it will be no trouble," she said as he led her to the room.

"We'll be required to meet at least three times a week to assess your progress and adjustment," he said, "but you should feel free to see me whenever you'd like, and to come to me with any questions you may have," he explained as they walked. "We'll meet in the morning to sort out your courses, where you spoke with your uncle earlier today, promptly after breakfast. Our three scheduled meetings will be on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after dinner in my office, which I will show you tomorrow morning." He stopped in front of a door and turned to her. "Any questions?"

"No, sir," she said. Spock nodded and handed her a communicator.

"In case you need anything," he said, and then knocked on the door as she tucked the device away.

"Dammit, farm boy, I told you to leave me-" Uhura opened the door then to see Commander Spock with a raised eyebrow. "Oh…Commander, I thought you were someone else," she said, blushing.

"That is apparent," he said, "but I am not. I brought your new roommate."

"Oh," Uhura said, apparently just noticing the girl. "Hi, I'm Nyota," she said.

"T'lema," she replied. Uhura looked her over.

"Is that Vulcan?" She asked, a bit confused. The girl in front of her, judging solely from appearances, had some minor Vulcan-like features, but she more likely had an Asian parent or grandparent.

"It is," she said, and Uhura nodded.

"Yes, well, I'll leave you two alone," Spock said. T'lema gave him the Ta'al and he returned it, walking away. Nyota opened the door for her more and she walked in, placing her bag on what appeared to be the open bed.

"So," Nyota asked, sitting down on her own bed. "Why do you have a Vulcan name? You don't appear to be Vulcan…"

"My paternal great-great-grandmother is Vulcan," she said. "It is her name."

"Oh, so you're part Vulcan," she said. "That makes more sense." She was silent for a moment. "Um…how old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen," she replied nonchalantly, putting her things neatly in her drawers.

"Sixteen? Really? Wow…and Commander Spock is your mentor? You must be a genius or something…"

T'lema shrugged. "Merely dedicated," she said. "For some reason, my Vulcan features are more pronounced than my father's, despite the dilution. I have better control and even some physical characteristics that are slightly more Vulcan than Human."

"That's interesting," she replied, and T'lema nodded.

"Yes, I suppose it is," she said. She'd finished unpacking. "Not to sound rude, but if it's all the same to you I'd rather not force conversation. I'm not much for socialization."

"Oh…okay, yeah, sure," she said awkwardly. As if on cue, a knock came at the door and T'lema walked over, opening it, expecting the delivery of her uniforms.

"Well hello, beau-" Jim began before looking up. When he saw her he jumped back and T'lema raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Ugh, he's here for me," Uhura said. "That's who I thought was here earlier. I don't want you, Jim…go away."

"Well maybe I didn't come to see you," he replied. "Maybe I came to see Telma here," he said, absolutely butchering her name.

"Definitely sounds like you came to see _T'lema_," Uhura said and Jim scowled.

"Do you know where Uncle Leo is?" She asked him.

"Who?" Jim responded, confused.

"Bones," she clarified. She saw the person with her uniforms and took them, folding them over her arm.

"Oh, yeah, he's at the dorm. I can take you there if you want?" He suggested.

"That would be acceptable," she said. "Just a moment." She went back into the dorm to hang up her uniforms. She then went back outside.

"All right," he said, leading her there. He opened the door. "Yo, Bones…look who I found," he called. Bones looked out and smiled.

"T'lema, darlin'," he said, smiling. "How did it go?"

"It was boring, really," she replied. "Incredibly simple."

He nodded and began putting away his homework. "Wanna go for a walk, darlin'?"

T'lema smiled and nodded, and went for a tour of the campus with her uncle.

The next morning, T'lema showered, pulled her hair into its usual bun, and dressed, inspecting herself in the mirror. Red…why red? She'd always hated the color, though she didn't know why. She was ready long before her roommate had even awoken, and so she took her journal and a book in Romulan and went outside. She found a peaceful spot, recorded the previous nights' dream in her journal, and proceeded to read until breakfast. She'd already read the book, of course, multiple times, but felt that re-reading it helped to keep her familiarity with the language high. She ate, and before long f1`ound herself waiting for the Commander.

"Cadet," Commander Spock spoke in simple greeting.

"Commander," T'lema responded, and then fell into step behind him when he gestured for her to follow him. They were soon in his office. They sat down, worked out her schedule, and an excited yet controlled T'lema began her new routine as a Starfleet cadet.


End file.
